Kirov III: Pacific Storm

where he waited for her on a ship the like of which Kuriyama had never seen. But with torpedoes that could fire at a very long range, he would not go down without a fight that evening.

Four Type 95 torpedoes were in the tubes before Tasarov found the sub, hovering silently, some 15,000 meters off the exit to the Pandora Passage. He had been just making ready to cease active sonar when his well trained ear caught a return that sounded much different from the echoes of rock and shoal he had been processing for the last hour. No…This was different, and it had a sinister edge to it. He immediately announced possible submarine, confidence high, and designated the contact Alpha One, feeding targeting information to Samsonov.

Karpov was quickly on alert, as the ship was still in the Pandora Passage making a slow ten knots and with no room to maneuver at the moment. He noted that the KA-40 had just completed its mine laying operations and was over the ship again, preparing to land.

“Comm Officer. Send to the KA-40. Belay the landing order and move to a position ahead of the ship to begin ASW operations, alert level 1.” Then he looked to Fedorov. “Will this sub need to be in close as the others we’ve encountered?”

Fedorov had been leaning over his old navigation station working with a junior officer there to make the final course adjustment to clear the passage. The word submarine jarred him as well, and he suddenly realized the danger they were in.

“No!” he said sharply. “They may very well have the Type 95 torpedo. It has tremendous range and this boat could fire at us the moment he sees us. The closer the better, of course, but there were instances where Japanese submarines fired from 12,000 meters.”

He was all too correct. Tasarov sat up suddenly, one hand on his headset, and called out another warning. “Con, I have torpedoes in the water! One, three, no, make that four torpedoes inbound at over 40 knots!”

“Samsonov, activate forward UDAV-2 system,” said Karpov sharply. “Fire a barrage at maximum range. Now!” Unable to maneuver the ship, Karpov was going to immediately use the powerful 300kg rockets to lay down a barrage of fire in the sea ahead of the ship as a defensive barrier. It was a good idea, the very same weapon they had used to blast away at the minefields in Bonifacio Strait, and again when they were fired on by the German U- Boat off Fornells Bay, Menorca in the Med, but it was ill timed. The explosive barrier had expended itself before the torpedoes reached the 3000 meter range mark, and they pressed on through the churning waters, all aimed for the exit of the Pandora Passage where Kirov lumbered forward at 10 knots.

If they had been homing torpedoes, the ship would have be dealt a mortal blow then and there. But these were torpedoes that ran where they were pointed, with a unique kerosene-oxygen fuel that made them very reliable and gave them tremendous range. They did tend to wander, left or right, but no more than 270 yards at maximum range. Kuriyama had fired all four of his forward tubes to account for wander, and was hopeful that at least one of his lances would strike home with its big 406 kilogram warhead, all of 893 pounds.

He was not disappointed.

While the two torpedoes on the outermost portion of his fan of four were both well wide, the center two were running true. The left torpedo had the misfortune to scud against a submerged rock, and the collision sent it wildly off to one side, and well away from the target before it struck the Ashmore Reef and exploded. The last came in on Kirov’s port side, and in spite of a quick 5 point turn intended to evade it, the torpedo was close enough to the hull and exploded amidships, the powerful concussion rolling the ship heavily.

Lights winked on the main bridge, and then went to red briefly until the emergency battery backup systems kicked in and the electronics sputtered to life again. The sudden loss of power to the CIC meant Samsonov could not select the next weapon Karpov wanted to call for, the lethal Shkval super-cavitating torpedo that had made a quick end of the Submarine Talisman in the Med as they neared Gibraltar.

But the KA-40 already had dipping sonar in the water ahead of them, and had enough data from the ship’s telemetry before they began to prosecute to get a good bearing on the hidden enemy’s position. It fired back an airborne ASW active/passive acoustic homing torpedo, the APR-5, with a warhead much smaller than the type 95 at only 76 kilograms. It was quick to the target with its solid-fuel pump-jet propulsion engine, and minutes later it found Ro-33 while the crews in the forward torpedo room were rushing to seal the hatches on another round of fresh Type 95s.

Kuriyama was allowed that brief moment of elation when he saw the high water spout of the explosion on the side of the oncoming ship. Then he felt his submarine shake violently when the APR-5 struck it right on the nose, exploding and setting off all four of the fresh Type 95’s there as well. The front of the sub was virtually ripped apart, and every man aboard quickly met the fate they evaded at the hands of the destroyer Arunta, only three days early.

Mother Time was balancing her books.

~ ~ ~

Kirov had almost avoided the hit. The torpedo actually was triggered by a small stabilizing fin extending perpendicular from the hull called the ‘UK-134-6’ system, designed to minimize roll and create a more stable missile firing platform. The reinforced metal work there actually helped the ship, though they lost the entire port side stabilizing fin. As it was the warhead did not strike the ship full on, but detonated near the hull at her widest point abeam, where the 100mm anti-torpedo bulwark had been built to provide some protection and help deflect and absorb the explosive power of the torpedo. Behind the bulwark was a void filled with seawater, another 50mm armor plate and then the inner hull. The 406kg warhead was powerful enough to blast through them all, ripping an eight foot gash in the ship and sending a cascade of seawater into two interior compartments.

Flood control alarms sounded all over the ship as water tight doors were automatically shut and crewmen scrambled to seal all hatches. Damage control parties were on the move at once in a well drilled routine that the men never once thought they would have to practice in reality. Yet reality had a hard bite at times, and Kirov was wounded, a hit far worse than the bomb that had grazed her, and even more threatening than the incredible damage inflicted by Hayashi’s headlong dive with his D3A1. Damage below the waterline was the bane of every sea captain for centuries. Two things could kill a ship faster than anything else: fire above was one of them, but water below was feared even more.

Directly above the area hit was the Korall–BN2 module that was integrated with the Combat Information System to control the P-900 cruise missiles Karpov had just used against Kirishima. It was hit by fragments of metal and put off line. A small boat mounted on the weather deck also suffered slight damage, but the threat was deeper in the bowels of the ship, where water had forced its way to a point two bulkheads away from the reactor core. The crews fought to get pumps active at once while Byko was coolly directing their efforts. In time they managed to pump most of the water that had penetrated beyond the outermost compartments, but those two sections were fully flooded, and it would take divers in the water with metal hull sealers to close the compartment from the outside before they could hope to use the pumps again on that area.

It was going to be another long night.

When the news came up to the Bridge Fedorov knew they had again been very lucky. “Had it struck us full on amidships the damage could have been fatal,” he said.

“We’re listing a few degrees to port,” said Karpov. “It’s very slight, but I can sense it. We won’t be able to make anything much over this speed until we seal that hull breach. So if that battleship and its hound dog cruisers behind us get close again, I’m afraid we’re going to have to get serious, in spite of our missile inventories.”

The power stabilized, and the mains came back on, the quiet hum of the equipment reassuring. Then they heard a distant explosion, deep and powerful immediately followed by another as if a Thunder God had struck a great kettle drum in anger. Fedorov’s eyes were drawn to the Tin Man video feed where they could see the shadowy silhouette of the Japanese battleship against the sun. It seemed shrouded in mist. Then he saw a huge column of water rise up near one side of the ship and he immediately realized that the enemy must be in the mined Prince of Wales Channel, the narrow 800 meter wide segment where the KA-40 had laid her eggs, the six MDM-3 anti-shipping mines.

“I think that battleship struck one of our mines!” he said, somewhat relieved. He was wrong.